So Fast

I can finally confirm that we have internet! However, I'm posting from good old Missouri tonight. Our connection is good but my laptop, unfortunately, is not. Since I scratched my hardrive earlier this year it's been making my life miserable attempting to get it back to square one. Looks like it should be fixed this week.

Why Missouri? I've been in town for a few days visiting my grandparents. Being the responsible, loving grandchild that I am I try to to make it out to see them once every couple of years. I get to enjoy dinner at 3:30pm (2:30pm WA time), help them remember things, play with their 5 (!) animals, and enjoy grandparent-doting. They, in return, get to visit with me, introduce me as "the grandaughter from California," and ask when great-grandchilden are arriving. (You know, the ones I ordered.)

The three things I am soaking up:

1. Sleeping in: I realized how much I missed causually waking up at 8am. The two families I nanny for keep me rising early.

2. Fireplaces: It's been years since I've been in the presence of a real fireplace that uses, like, real wood and, like, produces real ashes.

3. Electric blankets: note to Wifey- must. get. one. These lovelies have been around forever and why I don't have one on my bed is something I've been pondering these last few days.

Being at my grandparent's house is a fun time but this visit is a little strange for me. There are pictures on the wall of me when I was 5 years old, 12 years old, etc. Memories of different vacations we've taken that seem like just yesterday. Furniture that belongs to generations before me litter the house. Grandparents now on 6 medications and forget if they ate breakfast that morning. Now more pictures of great- grandchildren and recent weddings fill their livingroom.

As I sit here and drink my tap-filled Fiji water I can't help but wonder how the time went by so fast. Five minutes ago I was 4 years old, in Ventura, swatting my grandparent's dog, Alex*, with a newspaper and eating Cheerios with honey with my grandpa as he insisted that I call him by his first name. (He didn't want to be called grandpa) Now I'm Missouri, 23 years old, missing my husband and dog, watching my grandpa's memory fade and wondering how easy it'll be to visit my brother if, or when, he moves out of state.

Crazy. Just crazy.



And for the record... Missouri is still Missouri.

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*Alex was my height and huge when I was little. He'd get right in my face unless I smacked his nose with a rolled up newspaper. One look room him and I was crying.